


You had me at Astrophycisist

by pentacs14



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Set during season 3, aka the fic that won't die!, and I have no idea why Morgan got so bitey..., and Reid just has a thing for Morgan, and apparently I have a thing for a pushy Reid in bed, apparently my canon!Morgan is a giant sap bc this is turning into fluffy fluffy nonsense, basically an excuse for hot closet sex, because flattery will get you everywhere!, but not so's you'd notice, cause wall sex equals love, like anyone really needs a reason..., morgan has a babbling kink, now with an extra chapter of smutness, or in this case a pushy Reid up against a wall?, or maybe it's just a Reid kink?, you're welcome?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3293702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentacs14/pseuds/pentacs14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid can babble like nobody's business when you get him on the subject of... Well, anything really. And Morgan's finding out the hard way that all that 'sciencey stuff' can be really hot. Or maybe it's just Reid... Though it could also be the lack of ventilation in the closet they're in. But mostly it's Reid!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimers: Do not own, am making no profit, etc. If you have issues with m/m pairings do not continue.
> 
> So I was watching a compilation of Reid's funniest moments on youtube and I came across this clip from season 3 of Reid babbling at Morgan before Morgan stomps off in a huff. I laughed and then thought to myself 'What if he wasn't stomping off because he was annoyed but because of something else entirely?' and voila! This was born... I so need a life. And to apologize because I finished writing this at 1am and I think it may have gotten a little cracky at the end.
> 
> Here is a link to the clip if anyone wants to see it:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7EMeG59XK0

“A popular theory among leading astrophysicists estimates that the hyper-matter reactor would need about ten to the thirty-second joules of energy to destroy a planet the size of earth,” Reid said, his hands darting through the air as he illustrated his point.

Prentiss threw an aggrieved look in their direction even though Morgan had in no way started the boy wonder off on this latest tangent - nor had he encouraged him, not having looked up from the file clasped fiercely in his hands despite the fact that he hadn't read a single word since Reid started talking.

“Now, Lucas said it took 19 years to build the first Death Star, right?” Reid asked rhetorically, oblivious to his companion’s all but aggressive indifference.

Morgan glanced up involuntarily - good manners were hard to fight - and the sight of an animated Reid hovering over him, perched as he was on the edge of the desk, was almost more than he could take.

A hot feeling that he refused to admit was a blush was crawling up his chest and Morgan desperately cast around for a distraction. His eyes settled on the workman with his paint roller heading away from Rossi's new office and he heaved an almost audible sigh of relief.

“If you look at the universal chronology, there’s a tested prototype for Superlaser-”

Morgan threw the file in his hand on the desk and got up, cutting the younger man off mid sentence.

“Where are you going?” Reid demanded, obviously unaware that Morgan had been pointedly ignoring him as much as possible for the last however long he had been going on.

“Taking back the last five minutes of my life,” Morgan tossed over his shoulder as he walked away. He only managed not to break into a run through sheer strength of will and the knowledge that there were several pairs of eyes focused on his back as he went up the stairs. They probably all thought he was checking up on their new so-called teammate and that was fine with him.

The second he hit the top step he took a sharp turn and hustled along until he was out of sight. The thought of trying to return to the bullpen where everyone would notice and most likely comment on his flustered state was sheer torture.

He was scanning doors for a likely place to hide out for the next few minutes while he got himself back under control when his phone rang. He put it to his ear and answered with a distracted, “Morgan,” as he kept walking, stiff-legged and desperate.

“Trouble, sugar cakes?” Garcia asked brightly.

“Not right now, baby doll,” Morgan groaned. “I've got a slight issue here.”

“Anything to do with tall, pale and nerdy following you about a half a corridor back and looking to turn the corner real quick?”

“Shit,” Morgan muttered and darted into the first room that came to hand.

A claustrophobic little cleaning closet, as it turned out. Just great.

“Anything I can do to help, my sweet?” Garcia asked with a playful coo in her voice.

“No, and I thought I told you to stop monitoring the surveillance feeds inside the building?” Morgan kept his voice low and laid his hand lightly on the back of the door so he would know if someone were about to open it.

Not that it would do him much good since there was no where to hide.

“Hmm, and miss out on all the fun you guys have up there while I’m stuck down here in my little cave?”

“I thought you liked your cave?”

“Of course I like my cave. It's got a swanky new map and everything. Doesn't mean I don’t miss out on all kinds of interesting things though.”

“Like watching us pour over case files like good little drones?” Morgan asked sourly.

“Like watching you beat a hilariously hasty retreat from the junior G-man,” she countered, voice unruffled. “And why was that precisely?” she asked, a thread of evil humor lacing her voice.

“Because he bores me to tears when he starts going on about math and science and statistics?” Morgan offered desperately. “Even more so when its based on imaginary universes?”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Garcia laughed. “Were you bored to tears? Or do you perhaps have a slightly different reaction when Reid’s voice is droning incessantly in your ear?”

“Garcia,” Morgan bit out in warning.

“A problem that perhaps made it a little difficult to run despite the fact that you were obviously fleeing the scene of the crime?” she continued unmercifully.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Morgan snarled.

“Oh, I think you do, gorgeous,” Garcia said with a fond laugh. “And I think you've been dealing with this ‘little problem’ for a while.”

“Garcia, I-”

“Morgan?” Reid’s voice came through the door hollowly.

“Oops,” Garcia giggled. “Maybe you shouldn't have told me to stop watching the video feeds quite so soon, honey bunches.”

“Traitor,” Morgan snapped.

“Excuse me?” Reid’s voice sounded confused and Morgan could imagine the expression on his face. The furrowed brow and slightly pouty lips whenever he didn't immediately understand something always put Morgan in mind of a kitten faced with a particularly hoppy bug.

Morgan stifled a groan. His mind was quite obviously broken if even that thought was making it hard for him to concentrate beyond the state of his pants. A state that was not easing despite the ridiculousness of the situation he was being faced with.

“No, not you, Reid,” Morgan said, raising his voice to be heard more clearly through the door. “You are going to pay for this,” he told Garcia in a low, dark tone.

“Gonna have to catch me first, darlin’,” she drawled before hanging up with a twinkling little laugh.

“Morgan, are you okay?” Reid’s voice came again, concerned.

“Yeah, just… Just give me a second, okay?” Morgan asked, his voice strangled.

He put his back to the door and tried to will his wayward reaction to their resident genius away so he could face said man without blushing like a horny teen greeting his crush. No matter how apt a description that may be.

He had no idea how it had happened, honestly. The two of them had been working together for a couple years with no issues or underlying currents. They had been through tough cases, the loss of teammates, personal tragedies and so much more.

And yet despite all these issues, or maybe because of them, everything had remained the same between the two of them. The suave older brother with the annoying younger one always tagging along, getting in the way. It was their thing.

If Morgan had maybe noticed once in a while that his mind seemed to drift when Reid was spouting off some long-winded fact, well… Status quo, as far as anyone was concerned. 

Morgan had never resisted a chance to roll his eyes behind Reid’s back when the kid got a really good head of steam going and he still teased Reid unmercifully at every opportunity. Like an older brother, Morgan’s brain insisted, not like a little boy tugging on a girl’s pigtails.

No one said that being a profiler meant you were incapable of hiding things from yourself and Morgan had always been very good at denial.

Up to a point.

Which is why he was currently trapped in a supply closet while the object of several recent and fairly intense wet dreams stood on the other side of the door. And here was Morgan desperately trying to tell his body to sit down and shut up long enough for him to pull himself together and get out of here with what little dignity he could manage to scrape off the floor.

“I’m sorry.” Reid’s voice was muffled, as if he hadn't meant to say anything and so hadn't made his voice loud enough to penetrate into the room/closet.

“For what, pretty boy?” Morgan asked absently.

An embarrassed cough floated through the door and then Reid’s voice stammered out, “I, uh… heh, funny thing, really, if you think about it. I mean, maybe it’s funny. Or, uh, not… But I’m, uhm, hoping for at least flattering because, well… Flattering won’t get me punched in the face, I think. I hope.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there,” Morgan cut in. “Who’s punching you in the face?”

“Erh, you? Maybe? But I hope not?”

“Why would I punch you in the face?” Morgan asked slowly, each word spaced out as he tried to make sense of Reid’s rambling.

“Well, I, uh…” Reid hedged for a second, then continued on in a rush of words. “Maybe noticed you reacting to the way I tend to babble when I go on about 'sciencey stuff,' as you put it, and took it as you, erh… Heh, yeah, I probably took it the wrong way because why would you be turned on by my driveling on about utter nonsense. So maybe I should just stop talking now that we've established that I’m an utter idiot and, yeah…”

Morgan’s face felt like it was going to crack in two from how hard he was grinning. So Reid had noticed him reacting - and Morgan so did not want to think about what that meant for the likelihood of the rest of the team knowing about his ‘little problem,’ as Garcia had so kindly put it - and had tried to force the issue with a long-winded lecture in aid of… what, precisely?

“Reid?” Morgan called out, the silence having stretched out long enough for him to not to be sure whether the young man was still there or currently hightailing it out of the building in mortification.

“Yes?” Reid answered hesitantly.

“If I admit to siding more with the ‘flattered’ side of things than the ‘punching you in the face’ side of things will you tell me why you decided to perform thought experiments on me in front of all our coworkers?” Morgan may be falling hard for the BAU's boy genius but that did not mean he wasn't about to add psychological mind games to the moratorium they had on profiling each other.

“Technically what I was doing was not a thought experiment. A thought experiment implies a theoretical component, its an experiment more commonly performed in the abstract. The most famous being the case of Schrödinger's cat, where the idea of actually performing the experiment was relatively abhorrent but the main concept was still-”

“Reid,” Morgan cut in again before he developed a bigger ‘little problem.’ "Not helping."

“Sorry?” Reid offered, his tone more questioning than apologetic.

Morgan gave a faint snort of amusement and let his head fall back until it thumped against the door. God, how he had tried to keep his distance from this smart, stubborn, ridiculous, engaging, infuriating, remarkable young man. He’d been fighting a rearguard action for much longer than he cared to admit.

“Back up there a little. I’m coming out, ok?”

Morgan opened the door to see Reid standing on the other side of the corridor staring rather intently at his shoes.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. No more denying his attraction if even the faint blush he could see creeping up the long pale column of Reid’s neck was causing heat to pool low in his gut.

“So for the sake of argument let’s just say that you weren't wrong in your interpretation of my reaction to you spouting out your ‘sciencey stuff,’” Morgan said quietly. “And we can move on to how you’re maybe not weirded out by that fact.”

“Did you know that thirty-eight percent of people admit to dating a coworker?” Reid asked apropos of nothing, still not looking up. “Though the data may be slightly skewed due to the fact that thirty-seven percent of those people admitted to having kept their relationship a secret so the number of completely unreported relationships would statistically drive the numbers-”

“Reid,” Morgan growled out. “I know that techno-babble is like a second language to you but can we tone it down a little? I’m holding onto my self control by a thread here, man.”

“Why?” Morgan opened his mouth but Reid continued before he could say anything. “Why are you holding onto it?”

The young man lifted his head and, despite the blush that continued up to stain his cheeks a delightful pink, gave Morgan a pointed smirk.

“Oh, you are pushing it, pretty boy,” Morgan said as he reached out and grabbed the other man’s tie. He reeled Reid in slowly, giving him every opportunity to pull away if he wanted to, but rather than pull away Reid brought his hands up to rest lightly on Morgan’s biceps and leaned in.

The touch was electric and Morgan claimed Reid’s lips a little more harshly than he’d intended. In his defense he’d warned the genius he was unraveling fast so the man really only had himself to blame.

Not that Reid appeared to be complaining. If Morgan had been expecting the lithe brunette to be a passive participant in all this he was sorely mistaken.

It was possibly the singular most mind blowing kiss of Morgan’s life, less a battle for dominance and more a tango between two highly skilled dancers. Lips parted, tongues twined, fingers tangled in cloth, bodies molded to each other…

It was only when the lack of oxygen started becoming a major issue that Morgan tore himself away and realized he’d crowded Reid up against the wall, a thigh shoved between the younger man’s legs, hands fisted in the fabric at the small of his back.

He panted in several breaths as he took in Reid’s closed eyes, blissed out expression, kiss swollen lips and generally rumpled appearance. He wondered idly if he could get Garcia to print out and frame a copy of… Garcia and her blasted surveillance cameras!

“Fuck,” Morgan breathed out.

“Not generally on a first date,” Reid murmured, mind obviously still preoccupied. “Though I’m willing to make an exception,” he added as Morgan grabbed his arm and dragged him into the supply closet.

“God, it’s always the quiet ones, isn't it?” Morgan huffed out with a laugh.

“I’m not the one who completely bypassed the courting part of the relationship and went directly for the straight up devouring part,” Reid retaliated, completely ignoring the fact that he had had a little bit to do with that himself.

“Hmm,” Morgan agreed. “Devouring. I like that.”

He pressed Reid up against the back of the door and threaded his fingers in the brunette’s soft hair, angling Reid’s head so he could assault his neck with tongue and teeth.

Reid’s hands, usually always moving as he illustrated some point or other, fluttered uncertainly in the air for a moment before settling onto Morgan’s back. They traced odd patterns, the nails digging in whenever Morgan bit down on a sensitive spot and Morgan hummed in approval causing Reid’s breath to stutter at the sensation.

He yanked Reid’s tie loose enough to gain access to a collarbone and proceeded to drive them both crazy.

Morgan hadn't really brought them in here with anything in mind beyond denying Garcia a vicarious thrill but, god, the sounds dripping from Reid’s lips were bordering on sinful and Morgan already had the younger man’s shirt completely undone and he didn't even remember doing it.

He dipped down to take a pert, pink nipple into his mouth and grinned as Reid all but mewled, his fingers raking across Morgan’s back in short, sharp motions.

The shirt was going to have to go if Morgan stood any chance of returning to the office looking anything less than thoroughly disheveled.

He took a step back - and wasn't Reid’s whimper of disappointment the hottest thing ever? - before unbuttoning the top two buttons. Reid was in an absolute state, leaning against the door as if it was the only thing keeping him up, covered in bite marks, his pupils blown wide and nearly mindless.

Morgan grabbed the back of his collar and yanked the red silk shirt straight over his head to save time and stepped back into Reid’s personal space. The feeling of skin on skin was nearly overwhelming and Morgan went in for another kiss just to keep from marking every square inch of Reid’s alabaster chest. He poured his need to claim and hold and dominate into the kiss and rather than be scared off the younger man met him need for need.

Reid's fingers scrabbled around the waist of Morgan’s pants and Morgan groaned, grinding his hips into Reid’s. Reid gasped, grabbing Morgan’s hips for better leverage to grind back.

“Shit, pretty boy,” Morgan cursed breathlessly. “Where’ve you been hiding all this?” he breathed out as he mapped the slighter man’s torso with large hands and mouthed up his jaw.

“Not exactly the sort of thing you bust out in the conference room before a briefing,” Reid muttered into Morgan’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Morgan replied with a smile. “Might shake things up a bit.”

Reid opened his mouth but whatever he’d been about to say was lost when Morgan bit down on his earlobe.

“Jesus, fuck,” was all he could get out and Morgan laughed, low and rough. “Not fair,” Reid whined.

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“Did you know that that quote originated in that form in 1850 with an English author named Smedley, not very well known these days despite the everyday use of the quote, but that the sentiment is older still, having made an appearance in Don Quixote in 1604 where he states ‘Love and war are all one. It is lawful to use sleights and stratagems to attain the wished end.’ Or something to that effect but in Spanish.”

“Now who’s not playing fair,” Morgan groaned. “That is cheating.”

“The word cheating has such a negative connotation to it,” Reid said, the smirk evident in his tone. “I prefer to consider it utilizing my resources.”

“Oh, yeah?” Morgan demanded. “Well, utilize this.”

And with that he hoisted Reid up, planting him firmly against the door and set to ravishing him in earnest. Reid gave what could only be termed a squeak as he wrapped his arms and legs around Morgan and held on for dear life.

He needn't have worried, Derek Morgan was a powerhouse of a man. Morgan had once told the team that he did a thousand sit-ups at least once a day during his normal workout routine, sometimes twice if he was bored or stressed. Reid had thought he was grandstanding at the time but the state of those washboard abs and the sheer strength of the man leant a certain credence to his words.

Reid kept his legs wrapped around Morgan's waist tightly but loosened his arms enough to bring one hand around to Morgan's front. The other hand he placed on the back of Morgan's head to draw him into another toe-curling kiss as he managed to get Morgan's pants undone with a modicum of fumbling.

He stuck his hand inside and was rewarded with a sharp nip to his bottom lip as he squeezed the pulsing erection he found there. Reid smiled and drew his hand up, palming the tip and tracing his fingers lightly just under the head.

"Jesus, Reid, Spencer," Morgan panted out. "Fuck, ah!"

Reid happily set to drawing out as many breathy obscenities as he could manage before Morgan batted his hand away with a growl and undid the younger man's pants. It was Reid's turn to pant and moan as Morgan returned the favor, placing biting kisses against soft flesh with every flick of his wrist.

Reid gave a thin whine, flexing his legs against Morgan's back as he drew the man closer. When he was close enough Reid tangled Morgan's fingers in his own and wrapped both their hands around their erections. It was hot and slippery with precum and so tight and...

Reid tossed his head back with a hollow thunk and came completely undone. Morgan followed him a second later with a hoarse cry and one last bite to Reid's collarbone.

They stayed like that, panting and shivery with aftershocks, for a long moment before Reid groaned and unlocked his legs. He stood on shaky legs that might not have held him if he didn't still have the door against his back and pulled Morgan into another lingering kiss.

"Shit, Spencer, I am so sorry," Morgan said when he finally got a good look at his lover's body.

"If by sorry you mean 'Sorry, Spencer, for not doing this sooner' I will accept it," Reid said calmly as he found his tie and used it to clean up the worst of the mess. "If by sorry you mean 'Sorry, Spencer, our first time was in a grungy closet and not on a nice bed' I will accept that also but point out that it was fun anyway so it doesn't matter." He started buttoning his shirt back up but flashed Morgan a smile. "If by sorry you mean 'Sorry, Spencer, you look like you've been attacked by a flock of vampire bats' I deserve that one but again I was totally into it so it doesn't really matter. Any other meaning of sorry I refuse to accept."

"Yeah, I was going for the last one," Morgan told him as he accepted the ruined tie and started cleaning himself up. "Though I could make up for the second one by offering a repeat at my place in my king-sized bed?"

"That I will gladly accept after you go tell Hotch I've suddenly come down with some sort of illness, possibly food poisoning, and you'll have to drive me home."

"Skipping out on work early?" Morgan asked with a grin. "That's not like you, Reid."

"Well, it's not like I'm going to get much accomplished returning to the bullpen looking like this," Reid countered wryly. He tugged on his collar and three bright red hickies came more fully into view.

"No, probably not," Morgan agreed wholly unrepentant, his grin not dropping a notch. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

He had no more than cracked the door open when a phone rang. They both reached into their pockets but Reid drew his out and waved it at Morgan before putting it to his ear.

"Reid," he said calmly before yanking it away with a pained expression.

Morgan could hear Garcia's high pitched squeal even from where he was half out into the hallway.

"You have to tell me everything!" she cried in her girliest voice.

"Garcia, I don't-" Reid started, only to be cut off.

"EVERYTHING," she repeated vehemently.

Reid threw Morgan a beseeching look but Morgan lifted his hands in surrender and beat a hasty retreat down the hall.

Who knew facing down a room full of FBI profilers while trying to play hooky with your new lover would feel like the lesser of two evils?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the boys go from office sex to outdoor sex and apparently my canon!Morgan is developing a mild bruise fetish. Which is alright because I have no idea what my canon!Reid is developing into... *cough*nymphomaniac*cough* But Morgan likes it, so it's okay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally did not expect such an awesome reaction to this story - you guys are beyond amazing! So for all the people demanding a sequel and basically enabling me like whoa here you are. I hope it does your faith in me justice.

“I swear I don’t have a ‘being discovered’ kink,” Reid muttered into Morgan’s collarbone.

Morgan wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not because they were literally feet from the sidewalk that would lead them to the front door of Reid’s apartment building and it would take them all of - what, a couple minutes? to make it to a bed at this point.

But Reid was not letting up, dammit, and while Morgan may have had the lithe young man pressed up against the brick wall it was Reid that had one leg twined around Morgan’s own, keeping him firmly in place, and it would take a far stronger man than he to walk away from the fingers digging into his ass and the teeth worrying at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause this seems pretty public to me,” Morgan replied.

Just because he couldn’t drag himself away from the porcelain skin slowly appearing in front of him as his fingers undid button after button didn’t preclude the fact that Reid could come to his senses at any moment and move the proceedings to a more secluded spot than the alley behind his apartment building. A more secluded spot preferably sporting a softer - or at least more horizontal - surface.

“Hmm,” Reid offered absently. “Not that it matters because I’m not one but the term for someone being turned on by the thought of other people knowing about their sexual activities is agrexophilia.”

“I thought that was just exhibitionism?” Morgan replied, his mind on autopilot as his tongue lathed each and every darkening bruise he’d placed on the younger man’s torso several hours earlier with worshipful attention.

“Exhibitionism is a subset of agrexophilia,” Reid breathed out against the shell of Morgan’s ear, “but agrexophilia deals more with getting sexual arousal from the thought of other people knowing you’re having sex. Exhibitionism has more to do with getting excited from making a public spectacle of yourself.”

It took every ounce of willpower Morgan possessed not to groan out loud as Reid’s voice whispered directly into his ear, each word dripping like molten lava into the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach.

“It could involve anything from streaking to flashing to just flaunting one’s sexuality in other people’s faces,” Reid continued blithely. “A really short skirt or tight pair jeans could do it for an exhibitionist. It would take something a little more overt for an agrexophiliac to get off.”

“And how would you know all this, pretty boy?” Morgan asked tightly as his hands molded themselves to Reid’s thin hips with bruising force.

“In order to understand sexual sadists you have to understand what makes them tick,” Reid said primly. He pulled back far enough for Morgan to see the smirk curving his lips. “That and I can’t pass up research in any form.”

The thought of Reid sitting at a desk, his long sleeves rolled up, his tie pulled loose, a pile of thick books at his elbow, a pen tapping at his bottom lip as he read dusty, dry tomes that chronicled sexual fetishes in clinical scientific terms nearly short circuited Morgan’s brain.

He choked back a growl and swore at the smug look on Reid’s face. Trust the excruciatingly astute wunderkind to press his advantage at every opportunity now that he knew what he was doing.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Morgan bit out, his hands ghosting up Reid’s ribs and past his chest until they could tangle in the brunet’s soft hair.

“I am smart,” Reid defended himself hastily. “ I have an IQ of-”

“Save it,” Morgan snarled before claiming Reid’s mouth in a harsh kiss.

Reid’s hands scrambled uselessly against Morgan’s shoulders, almost as if pleading for mercy, before his entire body went limp and he basically hung on for dear life. Not that the noises Morgan was swallowing up were in any way related ‘stop’ - unless there was a ‘please don’t’ tacked on to the front.

“If you really were that smart,” Morgan panted out harshly when he finally had to let up for air or faint in an alleyway with a raging hardon, “you would have let us get to your place before you jumped my bones so we could achieve something more than that admittedly fantastic but ultimately frustrating mutual masturbation session from earlier.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong. I really am that smart,” Reid said with a sly smile, “because I planned ahead.”

Morgan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What do you mean planned ahead?”

Reid’s cheeks suddenly turned pink and his eyes slid away from Morgan’s in embarrassment. “I, uh, may have made a slight detour to the restroom, uhm... In order to sell the whole ‘not feeling well’ thing,” Reid mumbled, his head lowering so he could hide behind his ever present curtain of hair. “And while I was there I figured ‘Hey, you never know’ and, well…”

Morgan closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Reid’s shoulder to keep from banging it against the brick wall behind his currently squirming lover. His voice was carefully neutral as he asked, “And what precisely did you do in there that has you all worked up, hmm?”

“I, erh.. may have, maybe, uhm-”

“Spencer!” Morgan barked, hanging onto his control by a thread.

Reid gave a squeak and rushed out in one long breath, “I was standing there with nothing to do until you came to collect me and I wasn’t sure how far my willpower would hold out so I decided a little bit of discrete forethought wouldn’t be wholly amiss and I may have started preparing myself on the off chance that we might not make it to my place and it would help if I was already loose and-” Reid cut himself off when Morgan let out a raw noise.

While Morgan was sitting in Hotch’s office sweating bullets as he tried not to give too much away to a building full of FBI agents Reid had been fingering himself in a bathroom stall?

“Jesus, it really is the quiet ones, isn’t it?” Morgan breathed out in wonder when his brain was once more capable of processing words.

Reid stiffened. “If you-”

Morgan cut him off again through the simple expedient of licking into his open mouth until Reid was squirming from need this time and not some misplaced sense of shame.

He kept one hand tangled in the hair at the back of Reid’s head so he could angle the man for better access to the long pale column of his neck while his other hand moved down to undo Reid’s belt and trousers.

Agrexo-whatever be damned, if Reid kept this whole obscene but innocent act up Morgan would willingly take him anywhere the sexual deviant deemed fit.

Morgan slipped a hand below the waistband of Reid’s trousers and squeezed his muscular backside with a fond smile. The young man didn’t have an ounce of meat on his bones anywhere and his ass was no exception.

He allowed his fingers to drift a little farther and he sucked in a sharp breath at what he found. It wasn’t like he’d thought Reid was lying or anything but - Jesus, Mary and Joseph!

Morgan snatched his hand back and spun Reid around, drawing him sharply back with an arm across the other man’s stomach.

“Lick,” he hissed into Reid’s ear as he held his other hand up in front of the man’s face.

Reid whimpered and grabbed onto Morgan’s wrist as if it were a lifeline. He licked Morgan’s palm with broad swipes of his tongue and Morgan couldn’t have kept himself from grinding into Reid’s ass at the sensation if his life depended on it.

With a muttered curse he shifted back the bare amount it took to get his own pants open and his erection free, fumbling slightly as he did everything one-handed.

Reid’s disappointed whimper was gratifying when Morgan drew his other hand away to grasp his cock, spreading saliva and precum over himself with short, sharp strokes.

“Up against the wall,” he said, voice rough with need as he gripped Reid’s hip with his free hand.

Reid planted his hands against the brick and bent over, his trousers slipping low on his hips and his shirt gaping open below him. Morgan had to close his eyes for a moment and still his hand not to cum at that sight alone.

A needy whine brought him back and Morgan tugged Reid’s trousers down further, kicking his feet wider apart and hauling his hips up until the other man was almost on tiptoes, all of his weight being held by the hands splayed against the alley wall.

Any other time Morgan would have pressed in slow, made Reid feel him sink in inch by agonizing inch until he was fully sheathed. He didn’t think either of them had the patience for that at the moment.

So instead he gripped Reid’s hips until the skin went white and bloodless around his fingers and thrust hard. Reid’s spine snapped taut and his head went back so fast he was flirting with whiplash as he let out a guttural moan.

Morgan bit his lip hard enough he swore he tasted blood as he set a fast, brutal pace. One of Reid’s hands slipped from Morgan’s forceful pace and he caught himself with a forearm against the rough brick, his chest slightly lower than before as he pressed a cheek against his arm.

The new angle was even better, allowing Morgan to thrust deeper and Reid had to sink his teeth into the flesh of his arm to stifle his pleasure-filled cries. Morgan watched Reid’s sharp teeth make his alabaster skin go first white then red through half-lidded eyes and lost what little control he had left.

He bent down, covering Reid’s back with his chest and wormed a hand around Reid’s hip to grasp his weeping erection. Two pulls and Reid was cumming with a muffled shout.

Morgan rutted into Reid’s quaking body a few more times and managed to stifle the sound of his own release against Reid’s shoulder blade.

They stayed like that for several long seconds, their harsh, panting breaths the only thing breaking the silence - until Reid’s body started shaking with suppressed mirth and he tried to smother a laugh.

Morgan pulled out with a low groan and took a step back, his hands lingering caressingly on Reid’s hips until the other man stood and turned around.

“What is it now?” Morgan asked almost pleadingly as he took in the twinkle in Reid’s eyes and the mirth inherent in the curve of his lips. They both set to righting their clothes enough for a cursory inspection, hopefully all they would need in the short amount of time it would take them to finally get into Reid’s apartment.

“So apparently I don’t just put out on a first date,” Reid said brightly as he tucked in his shirt. “Somehow I manage to put out before a first date. Garcia’s gonna have my head. She wanted me to hold out for dinner at that new Thai place that just opened up downtown.”

“How about we order in some Indian and call it a night?” Morgan asked desperately. He definitely wasn’t a teenager anymore and, while he may be in pretty good shape, the mere thought of trying to hit the town was exhausting.

“All right,” Reid replied with a shrug, “but you’re explaining it to Garcia.” Morgan gave him a disbelieving look. “Hey, I took her last time!”

“What, so this time you get Hotch?” Morgan’s smile was wry.

“If the need arises,” Reid replied, with an amused grin.

Morgan shook his head in fond exasperation and threw an arm around Reid’s shoulder, drawing him in snugly. “Alright, pretty boy,” he snarked. “I’ll save you from the big bad technical analyst and next time you can be perp sweated by Mr. I-Know-You’re-Up-To-Something-And-I-Am-Not-Amused Unit Chief.”

Reid swatted at Morgan with a playful, “Hey!” and the two of them walked out of the alley and towards the first of what they both hoped would be many pleasant evenings spent together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan has no idea what he's doing when it comes to Reid but apparently he's not alone. They were made for each other!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this was suppose to be a porny oneshot. Somehow it became a porny twoshot and now this happened! This is straight up fluffy character development and… Argh! It just doesn’t want to let go. But hopefully this means more porn for the future? ...Please don’t kill me...

“Clooney, man, we don’t have time for this,” Morgan called as the dog darted off after another fascinating scent, his whole body wriggling in delight.

The poor thing was desperately happy to be outside and Morgan couldn’t really blame him, for all that he was impatiently waiting for the dog to conclude his business so they could head back home.

Morgan had been ignoring everything - including Clooney - for most of the day as he obsessed over every tiny detail in his place in preparation for tonight’s date.

Clooney had been remarkably patient with him, sitting on the couch and watching him with only mild canine curiosity as Morgan had what, from an outside perspective, must have looked like a complete mental breakdown.

Of course, the fact that the dog wasn’t usually allowed up on the couch unless his grungy dog-approved blanket was down could have something to do with the fact that he wasn’t drawing attention to himself but still…

Only Clooney’s whine at the door had kept Morgan from rearranging the magazines on his coffee table for the third time. The poor thing had practically been crossing his legs by the time Morgan remembered that they hadn’t gone out for their evening walk yet and still the silly thing was being finicky about where he decided to do his business.

“Seriously,” Morgan called again as he put on the retractable leashes’ brake to keep Clooney from charging off after yet another apparently fascinating distraction. “We’ve got to get back before- Reid!”

The shadowy figure Morgan had only half noticed as he tried to keep Clooney on target glanced up from where it was sitting on a bench under a flickering streetlight. Clooney made another abrupt change of direction and Morgan lost his grip on the leash in surprise.

Reid unfolded his lanky frame and stood, obviously bracing himself for what looked to be a monumental crash. It had all the earmarks of a trainwreck about to happen - everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, including Morgan himself as he raced after his wayward dog.

“Clooney!” Morgan shouted desperately, knowing it would do no good.

Sure enough Clooney launched himself in preparation of planting his paws firmly against Reid’s slender chest and Morgan had a brief image of the both of them going over in an ungainly sprawl and Reid ending up with a concussion, which would put a kibosh to half - alright, maybe three quarters - of his plans for the rest of the evening.

But instead of the disaster he was envisioning Reid managed to grab Clooney by his front feet and walk him backwards a few steps before setting him firmly down on the ground. The dog sat down abruptly, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his stump of a tail wagging so fast it almost seemed to blur.

“Okay,” Morgan said carefully as he slowed down to pick up the leash handle lying forlornly on the pavement. “That was interesting. Where’d you learn that one, wonder boy?”

“I spent a couple summers working in a shelter for pocket money when I was a kid,” Reid answered dismissively, patting an ecstatic Clooney on the head. Morgan almost would have been jealous of his own dog if he hadn’t been the recipient of such a sweet welcoming smile when he drew even with the two of them.

“I thought dogs didn’t like you?” Morgan asked, not really aware of what he was saying as he tried not to let Reid’s presence completely overwhelm him.

“The Reid effect?” Reid twisted his lips into a wry smile as he turned to pick up the book he’d set down on the park bench. “Gideon made that up as some sort of test for suspects. See how they reacted to someone who wasn’t good with animals, I guess. Hard to tell what Gideon was up to half the time.” He stuffed the book into his ever present messenger bag. “I’m also perfectly pleasant around most children,” he offered with a more genuine grin.

“Most?” Morgan repeated, eyes crinkling with amusement.

“I’m less inclined to put up with screaming terrors with sticky hands or children with purposely underdeveloped vocabularies because their parents think its ‘cutesy.’”

Morgan chuckled and Reid smiled softly as they started back in the direction Morgan and Clooney had come from.

“How about rambunctious, pain in the butt dogs with no manners?” Morgan asked with a pointed look at his rambunctious, pain in the butt, mannerless dog coursing ahead of them.

Clooney gazed back at him with his biggest doggy grin and that ridiculous tongue of his still hanging out, panting happily as he investigated one of the trees growing on the verge.

“Having only met him a few seconds ago I can’t really draw any conclusive opinions but he seems pretty indicative of his breed. Boxers are known to be exuberant, high-energy dogs with a love of people and playing.”

“You hear that?” Morgan directed to Clooney. The dog tilted his head slightly as if to hear him better but made no move to come closer. “You’re indicative of your breed, he says.”

Reid snorted in amusement at Clooney’s apparent indifference to this statement as the dog went back to sniffing out all and sundry. “Did you know that they’re ranked the eighth most popular breed according to the AKC?” he offered.

“No,” Morgan told him with an amused shake of his head. “And I should know better than this but what government report did you pull that little tidbit out of?”

“Uh, actually,” Reid started with a faint blush. “I got that from the National Dog show. You know, the one after the Thanksgiving Day parade? Never miss it. My mom and I always prefered that to the football game.”

“Figures,” Morgan drawled. “You don’t really strike me as a sports person.”

“Hey, I don’t mind organized sports,” Reid defended himself. “They’re an integral part of the American psyche. They promote team spirit, a sense of solidarity and potentially provide a number of otherwise maladjusted youths a chance to work off some pent up aggression in a socially approved manner.”

They seemed to have touched onto a sore subject if Morgan was any judge.

“Interesting,” Morgan said, his voice dry. “Do you always refer to something you don’t mind in such glowing terms? I’m asking from the perspective of one of those potentially maladjusted youths, is all.”

“I’m really not good at this,” Reid muttered. “Please shut me up.”

Morgan laughed, not at all offended. “What are you not good at, pretty boy?” he asked with a teasing grin. “Normal human interactions?”

Reid gave an awkward shrug as he ducked his head, trying to hide behind his curtain of hair, his hands gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles went white. “Small talk with someone I really like,” he said quietly.

Morgan felt his breath leave him in a rush at those innocent-seeming words.

‘Do not jump his bones in public, do not jump his bones in public, do not jump his bones in public,’ Morgan chanted to himself in the recesses of his mind. Out loud he choked out, “Is there a manual out there somewhere that tells you exactly how to press all my buttons?”

Reid, proving himself to be the genius Morgan knew he was, didn’t try to dissemble. His hands were still gripping his strap hard enough for his fingers to appear bloodless but his voice was light and slightly coy when he replied, “Probably but I wouldn’t really know. It seems all I have to do is act like myself and somehow I get rewarded.”

“You expecting a reward for getting me all hot and bothered in a park, pretty boy?” Morgan growled out.

“It didn’t go so bad for me at work the other day,” Reid shot back.

There were all sorts of things that Morgan could have said to that but they still had to make it back to his place and through dinner before he could take Reid apart and eat him all up. Though at this rate dinner might end up waiting a little longer than he had planned.

It had been nearly two weeks since that amazing glorious day that they had finally stopped dancing around each other - or rather that Reid had all but ambushed him in a supply closet

What? It was his memory, he could spin it any way he pleased.

But the next day, after a delightful night spent laughing over their fast food and enjoying each other’s company, they had woken up still sprawled on the couch - a fact Morgan’s back did not appreciate - to the sound of both their phones ringing.

There was a case and they needed to be there yesterday apparently. They practically got the details in surround sound what with Prentiss filling in Morgan and Hotch almost verbatim on Reid’s side.

And so it was that life went on seemingly unchanged.

The only thing that proved it hadn’t just been another one of Morgan’s (admittedly fantastic) wet dreams was the scarf Reid had been forced to wear to cover an inordinate number of hickies. A fact Morgan did feel slightly bad for when he could remind himself to stop being secretly smug.

He had come across Reid and Garcia having a lively discussion about the merits of various decorative knots - and what the hell was a reverse drape cross anyway? - but beyond that it was as if nothing had happened.

They had both been focused and professional and there had been precisely nothing overt between them despite how many times Morgan caught Hotch eyeing the two of them.

Everything about the case had gone remarkably well for once. The team had caught their unsub in almost record time, saving untold lives and returning gritty-eyed but triumphant to collapse from a combination of jet lag and late nights.

The heady momentum of their initial tryst had been lost and Morgan deleted the _dinner tom@ mine ~7?_ that he texted Reid the next day three times before he managed to hit send. Then he had to keep himself from calling up Garcia and letting her mock him just to keep from compulsively checking his phone every thirty seconds for a reply.

He refused to admit his stomach was fluttery with nerves but he did jump slightly when his phone chirped at him with Reid’s reply of _That would be lovely. Is there anything I can bring?_

Morgan shook his head but it was less in surprise and more in amusement. Of course Reid was the sort of person who was a stickler for full sentences and proper grammar while texting. What else would he be?

 _jst yr btiful self prety boy ;)_ Morgan had sent in return.

And sure enough, two seconds later he’d received an obviously horrified reply, though how someone managed to infuse a text with that much emotion without emoticons he had no idea.

_Please tell me your dog was chewing on your phone just now or I may rethink this whole thing._

They had spent a pleasant evening and most of the night text flirting until Morgan had finally fallen asleep - still gripping his phone lightly in one hand. It wasn’t until this morning that the panicky feeling had come back in full force and he’d spent the majority of the day acting like he’d gone completely unhinged.

Garcia would have literally laughed herself sick if she could have seen him. He was the smooth operator, the suave ladies man, an effortless charmer, not a lovesick teenage girl - and why the hell was his subconscious coming up with words like lovesick anyway?

Morgan coughed and cast around desperately for a change in topic as they drew to a stop, Clooney disappearing behind some bushes with a furtive look.

“So what were you doing hanging out in the park when you aren’t suppose to be here for another,” Morgan glanced at his watch, “half an hour?”

Reid grimaced and stared down at his hands as if he had never seen them before.

“Uhm, yeah, so the term rapid transit is a bit of a misnomer in my opinion in that it is rarely ever rapid and I’m the sort of person people hate inviting to parties.” Morgan stared at him in complete incomprehension. Reid glanced up and rushed on, “I mean, I’m always precisely on time.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing,” Morgan said slowly, still not sure what reid was getting at.

“Its just I get so worked up in the hours leading up to when I’m suppose to be somewhere that I start freaking out. Like what happens if I’m two minutes early and the people aren’t ready for me, or three minutes late and they think I’m not coming?”

“Uh, nothing?” Morgan offered incredulously. “Most people don’t notice two or three minutes either way.”

Reid shook his head with a frown, clearly not appeased. “Much simpler to just show up early and then wait until the exact time specified,” he said seriously. “Otherwise I drive myself crazy.”

“Cause you’re not already there,” Morgan retorted, his tone fondly exasperated.

Not that he ought to be casting stones after today. Freaking out because you had too much time to overanalyze things was something he was suddenly much more familiar with. A thought struck him and he turned slowly from where he’d been watching Clooney reemerge from the bushes with a horrified look on his face.

“Please tell me you weren’t sitting out here for hours because I said to come over at seven,” he demanded, dismayed.

“Okay, I wasn’t sitting out here for hours because you said to come over at seven.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, his voice sharp with warning.

“I wasn’t!” Reid repeated hastily. “I was only here like fifteen minutes before you sicced your dog on me.”

Morgan snorted but didn’t bother defending himself or his dog as they continued walking. The dog in question was currently dividing his attention between sniffing the grass next to the sidewalk and prancing along in front of them like the giant showoff he was.

“So, uh, I can see why you named him Clooney,” Reid offered desperately after they had traveled a few hundred yards in slightly strained silence. “He’s got that same ruggedly handsome jaw.”

“Actually his name was originally Rosemary,” Morgan said. “We thought he was a girl for the longest time and my mother’s favorite movie when I was a kid was White Christmas.”

“Rosemary Clooney,” Reid laughed. “I like it.”

“Sarah and Desiree were less than fans,” Morgan offered, the conversation coming easy again. “But then again she made them sing that song Sisters at every talent show until they were twelve.”

“And what song did she make you sing?”

“What makes you think she made me sing anything, pretty boy?” Morgan drawled.

“Your mother doesn’t strike me as the sort to let you off the hook that easy.”

Reid’s grin was infectious and his eyes were dancing with mirth and Morgan couldn’t care less that this was not at all how he’d envisioned this evening starting off, especially since he wasn’t even wearing the clothes he’d spent nearly two hours picking out.

All he cared about was the fact that Reid was here and he was happy and everything was right in the world.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe I had already decided to make Clooney a boxer when I came across this quote:
> 
> “Square-jawed and muscular, the Boxer is the George Clooney of the dog world, a hunk with a sense of humor and an underlying sweetness.” http://dogtime.com/dog-breeds/boxer
> 
> It was totally meant to be!


End file.
